


A Stranger to My Eyes

by ryguy



Series: Chardenisms [1]
Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26423215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryguy/pseuds/ryguy
Summary: Dennis is home from college for spring break. Feelings are complicated.
Relationships: Charlie Kelly/Dennis Reynolds
Series: Chardenisms [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1935652
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	A Stranger to My Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This is practically why they start dating in S1. Oh, and the fun fact of the day is: I know that their love language is physical touch like one hundred percent, but I found a fascinating article the other day about the very likely possibility that there are more than five love languages in total, and one of the included categories was shared interests and _specifically_ music, so you know, Charden definitely have that, too.
> 
> Title from "Killing Me Softly with His Song" by Roberta Flack.

Dennis is home from campus for two weeks. It feels surreal to be home, in his own bathroom, wasting away while his friends argue over cheap television shows one room away. There’s a certain serendipity in returning to your comfort zone. Part of moving forward is letting go, but downtown Philly will always hold his heart with enough force to pull him back in.

The tub feels larger than life, the marble cold on his rigid back. The water is the same color as always. He stares at his reflection as if he were Narcissus gazing upon his image in the pond. The man staring back is years older; maybe he hadn’t realized that a decade had passed. You can’t remain impressionable forever, no matter how tightly you clutch youth by the throat.

Dennis lets his head loll back against the tiled wall. He stares up at the ceiling, and he wishes he had the strength to lift his hands and reach out for it.

The bathroom door opens with a creak.

“You've been in here for a long time, dude." Charlie’s voice is laced with concern as he speaks.

Dennis glances at his wrinkled fingertips, rubbing them together.

He takes a deep breath, and his voice wavers with the exhale. "Yeah."

Charlie closes the door behind him. He ambles closer to the bathtub with small steps over the tiles. His hands smooth over his thighs a little awkwardly.

"Mac left to buy more beer. We kinda ran out."

Dennis hums, and it faintly echoes in the room. "I see."

Charlie crouches down, then kneels beside the tub. He folds his arms over the edge, resting his head on top. His hand hangs in the water and he gently stirs it with his fingers.

Dennis sits up and pulls his knees to his chest. His crooked back hunches in and over himself. He eyes Charlie with an unreadable expression, before running a hand through his hair. In a matter of seconds, Charlie relaxes into the familiar touch.

“It sucks when you're away," he says.

Dennis’s fingers still in his hair. "You mean for college? You could always come visit."

Charlie shakes his head, his hair tickling Dennis's skin. "Just in general."

A melancholic smile sits on the corner of Dennis’s mouth, a subtle, sad curve to his lips.

"Well," he sighs, "I’m here for now.”

Charlie’s eyes slip shut. The silence covers them like a thick duvet, and Dennis twirls his hair with no apparent rhyme or reason. The water is cold, but Charlie feels alive, a thrumming heat under Dennis’s fingertips.

“Dennis?”

Dennis hums low in his throat.

Their eyes meet.

"We're still friends, right?"

It all happens before Dennis could intervene with his subconscious; his hand is suddenly buried in Charlie's hair, fingers tightly curling over his nape as he shoves his lips against his. Ah, Charlie is so warm. He’s so, so warm, and Dennis’s hand trembles when Charlie kisses him back. The pressure on his lips is hard enough to knock some sense into him. He can taste the worry, the questions on the tip of his tongue.

_Why are you doing this? What are you trying to prove, Dennis?_

Dennis’s knees are crammed against the side of the tub, but it doesn’t matter; he’s too busy drowning in his own feelings to pay attention to the discomfort. He feels Charlie’s hand on his arm, stroking up to his shoulder. Charlie’s fingers dig into his flesh, persistent, like he’s afraid Dennis will vanish, or worse, that he won’t let go.

Dennis pulls back, too slow, and the moment their lips part, Charlie leans with him and kisses him again. Dennis’s eyes are wide open. This is actually happening, and his body reacts before his brain registers the realism of the situation. He hears a vague little sound between their lips, one that he does not recognize as his own.

Charlie tilts his head and their lips separate, barely an inch between them. The air trapped between them is stale but warm on their faces.

"Holy shit, did I just do that?" Dennis mutters in a soft-spoken voice.

Charlie blinks at him, face flushed and lips parted. "I think you did."

Dennis nods, pressing his forehead against Charlie’s. "I did." He pauses. "I did do that, yes."

Dennis can distinctly hear himself say these affirmations out loud, these heavy words spilling from his own mouth, and it agitates something in his heaving chest. He's acting on his impulses without a second thought; and it's freeing. Time spent deliberating over "what could have been"s and "might have"s is wasted time when there's someone in front of you who wants your present and nothing more.

The corner of Charlie's mouth twitches into a smile as he watches Dennis.

The eye contact that follows, for once in Dennis's life, isn't rehearsed. Charlie's pupils are dark and blown wide, and he finds peace in that darkness. His eyes pan down from Charlie's patchy beard to his neck. He notices that the collar of his shirt is soaked, water dripping on his skin from Dennis’s nervous hands.

Charlie gives him a giddy smile. "It's cool with me if it's cool with you."

Dennis stares at him, dumbstruck. "Yeah."

Charlie pats him on the arm once, looking down at the sharp lines of his naked body before him.

"I think you should..."

"...I mean we _should_ …"

Charlie nods and pulls away. He stands beside the tub, and Dennis is looking up at him from where he is, perching on the edge. Charlie picks up on the fact that Dennis is both restless and lost; all but a frightened critter before him. He smiles down at him, and maybe it's a bit pitying.

“ _Wouldn't it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn't have to wait so long._ ”

Charlie fills that hesitancy in Dennis with song and liveliness, like he always does. His low, singsongy voice is a warm embrace, and Dennis finds himself grounded.

" _And wouldn't it be nice to live together?_ ”

He carefully extends his hand out to Dennis. Dennis looks at it in mild shock.

“In the kind of world where we belong…” he whispers.

Charlie nods. “Here," he bends down, his hand closer to Dennis, "don't slip and crack your skull open or anything."

Dennis clasps his hand firmly. "I would never. That's ridiculous."

**Author's Note:**

>  **\+ author's note**  
>  This is just a short something to get my thoughts out and to possibly start a series of Charden oneshots. If you see me projecting onto Dennis no you don't ✌️ thank you for reading, though! Comment if you, too, project your personal issues onto Dennis Reynolds.
> 
> Minor edits made on 2020.09.22.
> 
> **\+ socials**  
>  Hehe [hoho](https://gaydennis.tumblr.com/)


End file.
